Impasse
by unifilar
Summary: Bonnie asks Damon to train her. Hidden truths and sexual tension ensue.


Bonnie never had a problem feeling powerful.

Even before she knew she was a witch with access to ancient magic that could bend reality to her will, she was never a girl to sulk in her own sorrows or insecurities. Certainly, she had her own issues with herself, but whenever she found herself teetering too close to a pit of self-loathing, she pushed herself back with a shot of well-earned confidence. She worked hard for good grades, for a healthy figure, for the relationships she cared about. There was not much that made her feel helpless.

When her witch background became fact instead of fiction, she thought that she would never have to worry about feeling weak, ever. But with great power, came really big complications.

Complications including, but not limited to, fighting vampires.

Learning how to use magic against otherworldly creatures was not easy, but it was not impossible. It took practice, a lot of it, and a lot of memorizing of spells.

Almost smiling, Bonnie remembered when she would spend hours just focusing, just flexing her mental muscles. It was just as exhausting as working out or lifting weights. But it was necessary, because a sharp mind was the key to expanding her magical powers.

She sighed, breathing out her worries into the night sky, trying to imagine them floating up to the blinking sky. She spent ages focusing. Now her brain was in such a habit, she almost found herself incapable of relaxing. It was like her mind was in a constant state of awareness, akin to the feeling of having a muscle constantly strained. Sometimes she wanted to let it go, to release her mind from its rock-steady grip on reality and power and just let it sink into a smooth pool of serenity, of weightlessness.

But that was not her job. And, recently, she was considering the fact that her job was widening by the second.

Elena was training with Damon. She could have guessed that, but Alaric also implied it when Bonnie asked where Elena was when they were looking at the cave symbols. Bonnie pulled forth the memory of when she eventually asked Elena about it, but it wasn't much.

"_So I hear you've been learning how to stake a vampire," Bonnie said, trying to sound friendly, but the accusation slipped into her voice all the same. Elena sensed it, her brown hair swirling as she whipped around, her flashlight almost blinding Bonnie. _

"_Who told you that?"_

"_Thanks, Bonnie," Alaric grumbled sarcastically, unable to meet Elena's eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but he interrupted. "I'm going further into the cave to see if there are any more symbols. I'll leave you girls to talk." He hurriedly left, even though Bonnie knew they had both checked that area before._

_Left with no one to be angry at, Elena made a slight huff of a sound, finding the cave ceiling more interesting than Bonnie's fierce gaze._

"_Elena?"_

"_Yeah, I'm training with Damon," Elena conceded, closing her eyes for a moment before meeting her friend's eyes. She found resolve in that moment. "So what? It's not a big deal. I need to know those skills in order to protect myself or…do what is necessary."_

_Bonnie merely looked at her sadly, walking forward. _

"_Why can't Alaric teach you?"_

"_He does, but he's always busy. I need to be ready, Bonnie. You know that."_

"_I know, I know," Bonnie agreed, allowing a ghost of a smile before returning to a serious expression. "But…do you think you'll be able to stake Stefan, if you had to? If there was no other option?"_

_There was a long pause, wherein Bonnie could see tears rising from the crevices of Elena's eyelids. She looked away, shaking her head slightly, then tried to look Bonnie in the eye again, blinking rapidly. That was precisely the underlying fear that had consumed Elena from the start, Bonnie knew. She was not training to best Klaus; she was training to kill Stefan, an idea that must twist Elena's stomach._

"_I don't know, Bonnie," she whispered, as if afraid anyone else would hear. "I honestly don't know. But I thought that….that if I practiced…maybe that would make it easier….easier to imagine…"_

_A few tears escaped, and Bonnie pulled her into a hug before she finished the sentence. Elena was not prone to falling into sobs anymore, so she just cried silently into Bonnie's shoulder while her friend rubbed her back slowly. But Bonnie's gaze was focused on the wall in front of her, for that was when she realized that her job now encompassed another role._

That realization left Bonnie sleepless, leaning on her open windowsill, exhaling into the lingering breeze. There were too many possibilities that, once upon a time, seemed improbable, but if there was anything that this entire ordeal taught her, it was that nothing was impossible or even improbable. Everything that could happen probably would happen and should be prepared for. It had to be. If she was not prepared for everything, people died

And that was what led Bonnie to text Damon Salvatore.

* * *

><p>Elena's eyelids began twitching intermittently, and Damon supposed she had just reached the next step of her REM cycle, falling off a ledge in her subconscious and plummeting in further slumber. Her breathing was even and deep, and tickled his nose from time to time. He probably would have spent the entire night had it not been for a buzzing in his pants pocket.<p>

He frowned. _Who the hell is texting me right now?_

Slowly, he maneuvered his phone free, clicking to reveal the intruder on such an intimate moment.

"Bonnie," he muttered, half amused, half curious. He felt Elena stir, and he swore at himself mentally. He had not meant to say her name aloud. Watching the peaceful sleeper carefully, Damon slid himself to the edge of the bed, his precise sense of balance making his quiet departure effortless. He was used to sneaking around bedrooms at night, after all.

He was halfway down the street when he realized that he had not even read the text. He had only seen Bonnie's name.

_That little witch is always up to something_, he thought, as if his inner flippancy made up for the fact that he had left Elena merely because Bonnie had contacted him.

* * *

><p>"So remind me why we're doing this in the middle of the night, again?"<p>

"What, did I interrupt your sleep?"

"Maybe."

"You don't sleep, Damon."

"Well, not with everyone demanding my help all the time."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, moving away from him (she always lost track of the distance between them when they talked) and tightening her ponytail. It had taken her ages to dredge up her old workout outfit- a black tank top and loose (but no too loose) grey sweatpants. It was not that she had never worked out. She used to run on the treadmills at the school gym every day, but that was back before running for her life and exerting every muscle in her body was a daily thing.

She had added a pair of black, fingerless gloves for no real purpose besides to feel a bit more badass, but now that she was with Damon, she felt like they looked silly. But then again, the mansion was too poorly lit at night for them to see much of each other besides their dark figures and vague details. And, of course, their eyes.

"I'm not demanding anything," she pointed out, facing him, comfortable with the increased space. "I just asked if you were doing anything."

"Oh, please," Damon said, his eyes light and teasing. "Miss Bonnie Bennett never 'just asks' for anything. She demands."

Bonnie took a moment to think of a way to contradict that, and failed. She smiled and shrugged.

"Ok, fine. But that's never stopped you from ignoring what I want," she said, crossing her arms. "I'm not forcing you to help me."

"Yeah, like you won't use your aneurysm trick the second I turn my back to go to bed."

"_You don't sleep_. And I never use that unless it's warranted!"

"I beg to disagree. But, enough of this lovely banter. You have my undivided attention, Bonnie. What do you want from me?" he asked, spreading his arms and lowering his eyelids slightly, purposely suggestive.

"I told you, I just want you to train me like you train Elena," Bonnie returned, lowering her arms to her sides again, though she suddenly felt her body electrified with anticipation of the imminent fight. She was used to this feeling by now, considering all the life-endangering fights she had been in before, but since she knew her life was not going to be directly threatened with death here, she felt more at ease. Instead of being anxious, she was eager- ready to show off her skills, to further prove to Damon that she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Oh, she told you about that, did she?"

"No, Alaric did."

"Ah, that traitor. I may have to kill him again to keep him from tattling on me."

Bonnie quirked a brow, her wordless way of saying it was too soon to joke about that. Damon solidified his expression into something completely unapologetic.

"I didn't know it was a secret."

"It's not. I'm just sick of having to worry about so much as sneezing in Elena's direction without the entire Scooby gang investigating my motives."

"You would only worry about that if you didn't have good motives," Bonnie pointed out, and that seemed to strike a chord. A shadow passed over Damon's face, and it was not coming from the clouds streaming over the moon on the other side of the nearest window.

"Tell me why you're really here, or I may change my mind about helping," he said, his tone deadly serious. Bonnie swallowed, always hating that tone and that look. It reminded her of a time when the sight of him sent a jolt of fear straight to her heart.

In fact, Bonnie noted, Damon was one of the very few people that made Bonnie question her capabilities. Of course, that was his entire intent when he first met her, and it had succeeded for a time. It only made sense that now, he was to ensure her confidence in her power.

She decided to be honest, since she had clearly hit too close to home already.

"I don't know if Elena will be able to fight Stefan if push comes to shove," she said. "And if she can't, I want to be able to help her."

Damon considered her response for a moment, sizing her up. She held her breath, tense.

"All right," he finally said, shrugging, and she sighed in relief. "But I don't see why you can't just use your witch voodoo to defend yourself."

"A new threat is revealed to us every day," Bonnie said, her voice laden with the grave realism that she drowned herself in constantly in order to survive. "We are always adapting to new scenarios, to new limitations put upon us. For some reason or another, there will come a time when I can't rely on my magic anymore. I'll have to rely on my own strength."

Damon kept silent for a moment after that, staring at her intently. He nodded, then motioned for her to advance. A fresh wave of exhilaration rushed through her, and she raised her hands, clenching them tight.

* * *

><p>"Vampires will not pretend this is a boxing match. They move too fast for you to even register that their fist is raised, so never expect for their hand movements to be predicted. All you'll be able to detect is their body, and what angle it will attacking you from."<p>

Damon loved explaining something, then exemplifying it a second later. Bonnie felt a slap of wind hit her from the left side as he sped around her, and she felt his body come at her from behind. Even as he laid his hands on her shoulders, she was already lowering herself and sweeping out a leg to trip him. He did not seem to anticipate her quick reaction and actually stumbled, giving Bonnie a split second to thrust her free hand into his neck, increasing his sense of being off-balance and simultaneously pressing the tip of the stake, in her right hand, near his chest.

Damon caught himself and stopped himself from falling, but he saw the compromising position he was in. He glanced sideways at Bonnie, refusing to look impressed.

"Lucky break," he said. "I was busy talking."

She smirked, but that set Damon in motion. In an instant, her left hand was knocked roughly from his neck, causing her to step back. Damon aimed a punch at her stomach, which she evaded by jumping deftly back.

"Wrong."

Suddenly, Bonnie had the wind knocked out of her as she felt a hard chest slam into her, shoving her mercilessly into the wall behind her. Her lungs crumpled under the weight, and she struggled to inhale fully. She hardly had enough air to grumble a complaint about not realizing the wall had been so close.

"That wasn't the problem, though you should always know the environment better than the vampire," Damon said, having constricted not only her chest but also her wrists, holding them high above her head. "Close combat is the only way to beat a vampire. Put too much distance between you and them, and that just gives them more room, more angles for them to come at you from."

It was then that Bonnie realized something else.

It was no secret that Bonnie and Damon invaded each other's personal space when they argued. But every time, one of them would move away at the last minute, before things got too heated, too close. It was their game, their challenge for each other. A truce was usually called, unspoken, allowing them to separate without feeling a loss.

But this- a direct confrontation in which both bodies felt the surge of competition, of the challenge in action- this was different. Almost dangerous.

Because there was no distance between them now. Damon was an inch from her face, staring down at her, his face betraying no strain, but she could feel heat emanating from his body- excessive for a usually cold-blooded vampire. Sweat glistened along her skin, some beads catching the moonlight. Her breath was quick and hot, spilling between them as if trying to fill the air with anything at all to keep them apart.

Without the rules of decorum to hold them back, they were left like this- pushing each other as far as they could.

And she could not have felt more alive. Her skin was itching to reciprocate, to match each movement of his with one of her own, to feel the friction of a blow returned. Her heart pounded against his chest, and she wondered, briefly.

"Isn't this…" Bonnie suddenly found words strangling her, for she caught herself on the verge of saying something a lot more provocative than intended. Damon furrowed his brow until she continued. "…isn't this hard for you to do when my blood is pumping so loudly?"

Damon smiled, and his teeth looked even sharper up close. The lines in his face were more evident, too. As deep as scars would be, but softer. His eyes were bigger, much bigger. They were soon the only thing that she could look at, taking up her entire field of vision. His back was to the window, so they were shrouded in darkness, but a glint of something mischievous seemed to lurk within his iris. She wondered if that glow ever left his eyes.

She was proud of her ability to focus, in this moment. It enabled her to keep her eyes and mind on his face, as opposed to on his body, which was pressed into every contour of hers like a puzzle piece in its proper place. His body, which was defined but not overly so- just enough to have the ripple of powerful muscle. Muscle that was hardened and pushed into Bonnie's abdomen.

"Elena had the same worry," he said, and Bonnie felt something within her sink. "While I appreciate the concern about my end of things, I assure you, I'm very much in control."

That was good to hear, but Bonnie became uncomfortable.

_Right. Elena._

Belatedly, she could not help the feeling that she was trespassing onto her friend's territory. But, at the same time, wasn't that the problem? Elena loved Stefan. She shouldn't love Damon. Fighting in close, heated proximity with a vampire who clearly has feelings for you, while his brother- whom you love- is only separated from you because of a force beyond his control was a very bad idea, and both Damon and Elena should have known that. They shouldn't be working out together.

Then again, people shouldn't do a lot of things. For example, Bonnie should not have said what she said next.

"Is this how you and Elena train?" she asked, half teasing, but there was a harshness present in her inflection. Damon's eyes flashed, but he recovered swiftly.

"No," he admitted, his tone casual but his gaze eerily unwavering. "I usually beat her before we get this far."

Well, that didn't make Bonnie feel any better.

"Good," she managed to say, though it was in a breathless whisper. Damon raised his brow, leaning his head back slightly.

"'Good?' What's that supposed to mean?"

But Bonnie did not want to deal with that directly, not like this. Not with his eyes wide like crystallized moons and her breath the only thing between them. Luckily, with all of the talking, Damon's grip had loosened by a smidge, and that was all she needed. She wriggling a hand free, and she quickly jabbed three fingers into the base of his throat, causing him to cough abruptly and release her, backing up while grasping his neck. Bonnie used this chance to bring a kick up to his side, but he hastily blocked it with a strong forearm.

"It means that you know what it means," she said, bringing her other leg to kick at his chin. He caught her ankle, halting her entirely.

"Since we're bringing up things we'd rather not talk about," he said, humorlessly, but his face brightening as he continued his sentence, "why don't we talk about how you don't trust anyone to fulfill their part of the plan?"

Bonnie frowned, trying to rip her leg from his grip. Failing that, she switched the stake to her other hand and adjusted its position in her palm. Sensing her nonverbal threat of stabbing his fingers off of her foot, he dropped her, raising his arms up as if in surrender.

"That's not true." She advanced, throwing a punch to the side of his head. He wove under it, parrying with a fist of his own.

"Then why do you not trust Elena to kill Stefan?" he asked, and although Bonnie had dodged his attack, she felt her movements freezing from this line of questioning.

"I do trust her." A push to his shoulder, and a knee aimed at his stomach.

"Now, now, Bonnie. It's a sin to lie. Especially to a vampire." A block, then a hard shove.

"I just want to be able to help her if I need to." Remembering not to put distance between herself and an enemy vampire, Bonnie halted her backwards motion from the shove, redirecting her motion and throwing all of her weight into a swing of the elbow. Damon jerked his head back just in time.

"See, that's what's so annoying about you, Bonnie," he said, making a lunge for the stake. Bonnie danced outside of his range, almost literally; she had always been light on her feet. "You've become so used to doing the dirty work for everyone. You want to help everyone, do everything for them because it might be a little difficult."

Damon had a grace of his own, though it had not been readily apparent. His movements, while sudden and forceful, were flowing, and he had a clear understanding of momentum and the body. He matched her evasion step for step, trying to sidle around her, only to find her waiting for him at every turn. A thought flashed across her mind like a lightbulb right before it burst; maybe they knew each other too well for this fight to actually go anywhere.

"Is there something wrong in wanting to help the people I care about?"

"No, not at all. But you, Bonnie, have to stop being the martyr. No one is asking you to. You taking it upon yourself to be everyone's all-purpose superhero is not only stupid, it's selfish."

That was new. Throughout it all, Bonnie had hardly ever considered herself selfish. She always did what she did out of concern for her friends. Sensing her being out of rhythm, Damon caught the wrist of her empty hand, pulling her to the side to get her to expose her guard. She faltered two steps before rounding on him, aiming a blow to his cheek. He caught her fist, and she paused.

"There are some things people need to do themselves. Sometimes, people have to save themselves," he said, and the latter sentence was brimming with poignancy. "You have to have a little faith. Which I know is hard to do with blood-thirsty vampires running amok, but you should trust your friends. People surprise you."

At that, he let go, and Bonnie brought her hand to her chest, as if he had burned her. He watched her, waiting for his words to sink in. Distracted, Bonnie tried to think of a biting reply, but all that came up was lengthy exhales.

Dammit. She hated it when Damon, of all people, was right.

Faintly, she felt something within her unclench. It was almost unnoticeable, but it was important, she knew.

Bonnie nodded once, her pride not allowing her to express her gratitude in any other way. Besides, she sure as hell wasn't ending the fight there.

Lunging forward, she feinted with an uppercut, only to send the stake surging toward his heart.

Damon had seen this move plenty of times before; Elena always did it. He did what he always did, he reached forward to catch her arm and twist it behind her back, where he would usually render Elena helpless and declare himself the victor.

But he should have realized something was different this time.

He grabbed Bonnie's wrist, yanking it toward him in order to get her off balance and turn her into his chest. She turned, but she seemed to anticipate this movement. Instead of allowing her arm to be twisted high behind her back, she contorted her wrist in the manner of a millisecond. Before Damon realized it, she was gripping his wrist instead and had crouched, pulling forward with a ferocity that he would never have expected from such a small-framed witch. The throw worked, and Damon found himself staring up at the dark recesses of the mansion's ceiling.

With a grunt, he moved to jump to his feet, but abruptly, he felt weight pressing him down, a hand holding him by the throat and a stake pointed at his chest.

Bonnie was straddling him, her knees digging into the floor to keep her steady. She was sitting mostly upright, though she slouched slightly to keep her hand rigid at his neck.

"Elena can make her own decisions," Bonnie said in struggling breaths. "But as of right now, she just needs a friend who can help her get through to Stefan, and I don't trust you."

The last statement was easy to say, but it made her pause. Damon's eye had been wide, having been startled (and maybe a little impressed?) by the effective maneuver, but at Bonnie's words, his eyes narrowed.

"Really? After all this time, you don't trust me?" he remarked, and Bonnie gritted her teeth. He was missing her point. His face lightened. "You wound me, Bonnie. I really thought we were closer than that."

And then he was at it again; he explained something and had to exemplify it. Without a sound and without being aware of what was happening, Bonnie felt the room rush around her until she felt herself be pushed onto her back now, staring not up at the ceiling but into the dangerously close face of Damon Salvatore. He had her arms pinned near her head and a leg on either side of her, but what was different about his position as opposed to hers moments ago was how close his face was to hers. He had lowered his upper body almost completely, their chests touching when they inhaled.

"First of all, if you're going to use a move like that, always make your body as close to theirs as possible," he said, and she was suddenly aware that the only thing she was breathing in was him. His breath was the only thing surrounding her, leaving the air thick with his scent and body heat. It was suffocating, but survivable. "That way, they can't turn the tables as easily as I just did."

Bonnie felt her pulse race along the surface of her skin, like little shocks of electricity charging her entire being.

"Secondly…" He tilted his head so it was aligned with the side of her neck, and he revealed ready fangs. The sight would have normally made her shiver, but she was focused entirely on his movements. "If you don't trust me, then why are you here? I could very easily kill you, you know," he said, matter-of-factly, opening his mouth to emphasize the threat.

Bonnie felt his teeth graze the sensitive skin, tauntingly, and she quelled the immediate instinct of escape. Because even now, even when she was in such a compromising position, the adrenaline she felt coursing through her veins enlivened her, empowered her. She had successfully put Damon into several fatal positions during their spar. She had used all of her knowledge from past martial arts and self-defense classes, and she had added her own style to make her attacks truly unpredictable. She had never felt stronger, more capable of anything.

She met Damon's eyes, her own shining with challenge.

"Go ahead. Kill me," she dared, resisting the urge to smile. This was it- this was their endless game put to the test. Damon hesitated, looking to her neck, no doubt observing the fresh, lush blood vessels thriving underneath. Then he looked back to Bonnie, who stared at him expressionlessly, hearing only her own breaths and erratic heartbeat.

They had reached an impasse. The moment passed quietly with their intertwined breaths.

"Another time. You could still prove useful to me," he said airily, lifting his head but not moving otherwise. A smirk played on his lips.

"Oh, yeah? How so?" she asked, letting her confidence show now. It was a mesmerizing feeling; she felt almost drunk off of it. Like she could do or say anything.

"I need to have a worthwhile sparring opponent, for starters," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Bonnie simply quirked a brow at that. A beat passed, and she glanced down at their nigh-touching bodies before looking back up at Damon's amused eyes.

"I think I've had my fill of kicking your butt for the night," Bonnie said deliberately, much to Damon's obvious delight at her arrogance. "I should head home. Same time next week?"

"I find it funny that you think _you_ beat _me_, you little witch," he said, shifting his weight so the friction would remind her of the situation she was in. The tension suddenly intensified tenfold by his movement, and by the look on his face, Bonnie could tell he realized at the same time that she did that they needed to leave this position before….

_Focus, Bonnie. Always have to focus._

Damon released her and stood up, a little too slowly. He extended a hand towards her, and she considered for a moment before accepting it. He pulled her to her feet and opened his mouth to say something else, but was silenced by the motion of Bonnie slamming her forearm across his throat and pushing him against the wall, her stake held hovering in front of his body. She was smiling sweetly.

There was something else she had been needed to say to him because she knew no one else had (or would) say what needed to be said. Elena had told Alaric about the brotherly bonding time that Damon and Stefan had that day, and Alaric had (disgruntledly) told Bonnie when she had asked where the brothers had been all day. At the time, she had been furious, and even though she was much calmer now, she knew that Elena would not have relayed an important message to the rebellious vampire currently watching her, a spark of admiration flickering in his eyes. About time he was impressed with her progress.

"I did beat you," she stated, pressing only a bit harder on his trachea when Damon tried to object. "And listen- I'm not going to coddle you. I'm not going to let you think that the mistakes you make are alright. Killing Alaric- even if it was temporary- was wrong. Letting Stefan free without talking to us about it was wrong. I don't care if it ended up ok or if it was from good intentions," she added when Damon's face betrayed his resentment for the insults. "Your plans end up working but not because you have expert foresight, but because of luck and intuition. You need to consult us when you make decisions like taking Stefan to a bar, Damon." Their gazes were locked intensely, and she hoped these words were drilling themselves into his brain. "Sometimes we may even agree with your plans, but you'd never know because you never run it by us. I know you think we won't ever approve of anything you do, but try us. Have some faith. People can surprise you."

Damon seemed to appreciate her bluntness and her reference at the end, for he smiled softly and nodded- as much as he was able to, at any rate.

Bonnie was content with this and removed her arm, flipping the stake in her hand to the sharp end pointed back at her. She handed it to Damon, who was making a show of rubbing his neck where she had assaulted him.

"For what it's worth, I thought it was good idea," she said, and this appeared to surprise Damon more than a kick to the head. His eyes widened as he slowly took the stake from her grasp. "I think if anyone can help Stefan realize that he can save himself, it would be his older brother."

This statement, combined with everything that happened in the last hour or so, seemed to affect Damon more than anything else. He was almost left dumbfounded as Bonnie turned, gathering her things before walking toward the door. He was so transfixed, he almost let her go without saying anything.

"Bonnie?" She turned around, still smiling, as if she had expected him to stop her. "Your offensive moves need a lot of work. We should probably make this a nightly thing."

It was supposed to be said casually with a touch of teasing, but his heart was not in it. Instead, it came out sounding entirely serious, which made her grin grow.

"Whatever you say," she said lightly, amused, inclining her head as a way of goodbye before exiting the Salvatore mansion, closing the door gently behind her.

Damon ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the wall.

_People can surprise you_, he thought, then shook his head with a snort.

"'Surprise' doesn't even begin to describe what that witch does to me," he mumbled to himself, beginning to walk toward the stairs to head to his bedroom, where he would not sleep, according to Bonnie Bennett.

**END**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Even though I've only submitted two works for Bonnie/Damon, I feel like all my reviewers have been AMAZING and so nice. You are all wonderful, truly. I appreciate every review, every 'favorited' story, and every 'story alert.' It all makes me so happy and grateful, I can't even express it. Thank you all.

But enough will being sappy. A few things about this piece- this is going to be a part a loosely-connected series where I attempt to write somewhat of a 'deleted scene' kind of thing. For example, this fanfic is supposed to take place RIGHT after the end of 'Ordinary People.' Elena had just fallen asleep with Damon laying there, and this is how I imagine the rest of the night to turn out. Because I like to screw canon over, I like doing these kind of 'deleted scenes' so expect a lot more. Another thing- I feel like I may get some offended Elena fans from this fanfic because it was implied that she was a worse fighter than Bonnie. I'm not making that exact statement, but I did want to portray that Bonnie, having experience in having combat with supernatural creatures already (albeit with magic), would understand the rhythm of fighting and be inclined to do well. I want to add that just because I ship Bonnie/Damon doesn't mean that I hate Elena by any means. I actually think some of her conflicts and character developments are very interesting and would love to write about them. I just think it's a well-known problem that she's falling for both of the brothers, and that's a problem that she (and Damon and Stefan) are responsible for. It won't end well, and Elena will be partly to blame for the consequences. That's all I mean when I have Bonnie point out the Damon/Elena relationship.

Also- I took a self defense class last year, and a lot of these moves and advice about fighting is taken directly from there. Even rambling from me, though. As always, I own none of Vampire Diaries, and I sincerely hope you guys liked this!


End file.
